|
Last Voyage
of the Valentina - excerpt
London 1971
"She's enjoying the attentions
of that young man again," said Viv, standing
on the deck of her houseboat. Although it was
a balmy spring evening, she pulled her tasseled
shawl about her shoulders and took a long drag
of her cigarette.
"Not spying again, darling!"
said Fitz with a wry smile.
"One can't help noticing the
comings and goings of that girl's lovers."
Viv narrowed her hooded eyes and inhaled through
dilated nostrils.
"Anyone would think you were
jealous," Fitz commented, grimacing as he
took a sip of cheap French wine. In all the years
he had been Viv's friend and agent she had never
once bought a bottle of good wine.
"I'm a writer. It's my business
to be curious about people. Alba's engaging. She's
a very selfish creature, but one can't help being
drawn to her. The ubiquitous moth to the flame.
Though, in my case, not a moth at all but a rather
beautifully dressed butterfly." She wandered
across the deck and draped herself over a chair,
spreading her blue and pink caftan about her like
silken wings. "Still, I enjoy her life. It'll
do for a book one day, when we're no longer friends.
I think Alba's like that. She enjoys people, then
moves on. In our case, it shall be I who moves
on. By then, the dramas of her life will no longer
entertain me and, besides, I'll have grown bored
of the Thames too. My old bones will ache from
the damp, and the creaking and bumping will keep
me up at night. Then I shall buy a small château
in France and retire to obscurity, fame having
become a bore too." She sucked in her cheeks
and grinned at Fitz. But Fitz was no longer listening,
although it was his job to....
|
